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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598287">A life of Longing/Loving</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueishfood/pseuds/Blueishfood'>Blueishfood</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anne with an E (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Green Gables, Renew Anne with an E, Shirbert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:41:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598287</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueishfood/pseuds/Blueishfood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne Shirley has worked at brothels for as long as she can remember. She has almost given up all hope, when a knight in shining armor appears, from beautiful Avonlea no less, claiming that she is the woman he will marry. </p><p>OR</p><p>Anne Shirley learns to experience real love while being extremely annoyed at Gilbert Blythe for no reason whatsoever (except for her pride).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gilbert Blythe &amp; Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Mary Lacroix/Sebastian ''Bash'' Lacroix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Teaser</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning: This story contains: descriptions of a brothel, violence against women (not done by main characters), probably rough language,</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anne has just arrived at her new job. Gilbert wants a wife.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TRIGGER WARNING; This story contains mentions of prostitution and violence.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Her room was comfy. It wasn’t big, nor was it small. It was simple, comfortable and suitable for her needs. It wasn’t the best she had been too, but she had known worse. She pushed down the memory of a dark, damp cellar and put on her clothes. </p><p>The bed was red. Mr. Hammond said she would fit right in with her unusual hair, Anne didn’t quite agree. The bed was darker. While her hair held the colour of a raging fire or of the setting sun, the bed was only a few shades lighter than blood. Anne didn’t mind it, at least she was given a bed.</p><p>Sighing, Anne sunk into its soft embrace. For a second she let herself imagine the bed belonged to Cordelia. Surely Cordelia would have the right to such plush pillows. In her mind, Cordelia was a raven-haired beauty, but she was desired for her intellect, even though she was fairer than them all. Cordelia was the ruler of Avonlea; she was a queen. </p><p>Anne had heard of Avonlea from a client. It was the homestead of his parents, he said, a beautiful place. Anne loved the name, it sounded possibly romantic. In her mind, Avonlea had trees of gold and blossoms as soft as clouds. Oh, how she wished to be Cordelia.</p><p>Anne was startled by the door opening. A man stalked inside. He was blonde and his skin light, but his eyes were dark like the depths of hell. Anne swallowed the lump in her throat. This one would be a challenge. Carefully, she draped herself over the bed to look completely harmless. Dainty, pure, fragile. She could see what he was looking for in his eyes. He unbuckled his belt and Anne took a moment to rub the sleepy look from her eyes. </p><p>Time to get to work.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Gilbert visits a place he'd rather not</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CHAPTER 1<br/>Gilbert woke early. The sun shone brightly, and he had forgotten to close the drapes. His eyes fluttered at the light, and he rose, quickly pulling on pants and a shirt. The young man walked over to the washpot, broke the ice on top and scrubbed his face in the cold water. With a shutter, he dried himself with the cloth on his right. </p><p>The floorboards were cold, Gilbert grabbed the thickest pair of socks he owned and pulled them up past his ankles. He muttered a prayer to thank God for wool. Outside his door, someone shuffled about the kitchen. Gilbert closed his eyes for a second before he opened the door. This was going to be a long day. </p><p>Sebastian greeted his brother in everything but blood with a wide grin and Gilbert was quick to answer with his own. However, his smile looked rather bleak today. Bash noticed, after a few years living with Gilbert, they read each other like open books. Bash decided not to comment.</p><p>The scrambled eggs arrived before Gilberts tiered eyes before he sat down. “Straight from the mothers themselves.” Bash chuckled. Three chicks had hatched just yesterday and both farmers were now waiting anxiously for the frozen ground to thaw. Gilbert offered only a quiet hum of appreciation. </p><p>“Delly is sleeping soundly,” Bash shook his head fondly and continued; “Of course she would choose to sleep now after keeping me awake all night.” Gilbert smiled at the though of Delly. The darling had only just turned three months and was making more of a ruckus now than when she was just out of the womb. Sebastian hummed a slow tune as he fished up the toasted bread and butter.</p><p>“Mary is still asleep too.” Bash stated, as Gilbert stood to pour the milk. “Poor soul wasn’t allowed to go to bed until four in the morning.” </p><p>“Oh,” Gilbert said, “I wondered where she had gone to.” He bit into his eggs and sipped the milk. </p><p>“I think I’ll have to run to Mr. Jones to borrow a hammer today.” Gilbert sighed deeply. “I was thinking of starting on that broken fence.” He looked at Bash who seated himself across from Gilbert at the table. “Do we need borrow anything else? He’s always happy to help.”</p><p>“A hammer?” Bash repeated, drinking a whole glass of milk before eating anything, as he always did. “You’ll have to go further than that to get a hammer, boy. Jones broke his just last week.” Gilbert frowned as he thought the matter over. </p><p>“Charlottetown?” He asked, and Bash nodded. </p><p>“Afraid so.” Gilbert sighed again. </p><p>“Fine.” He muttered, “Anything you need? I might as well do some shopping when I’m there.” Gilbert scooped up the last of his eggs and toast. </p><p>“No, I don’t think so.” Bash looked behind Gilbert, as if he would find the answer floating in the air. “But, brother,” Gilbert stopped in his tracks from leaving the table and sat back down. Bash only called him brother when he was immensely happy or very concerned. “I’ve been hearing you sighing about all day, what’s the matter?” Gilbert almost laughed. Not at the question, maybe more at the answer he thought of.</p><p>“It’s really nothing important, Bash.” He stacked a few plates in his arms and put them in the sink. Bash protested at his vague answer, and Gilbert ran a hand over his face. He sighed again, pulled at his sleeve and sat down.</p><p>“I- well I-” Gilbert tried to make a sentence that wouldn’t sound as weird as the one he had formed in his head. </p><p>“Go on.”</p><p>“I want a wife.” </p><p>“What.” </p><p>Bashes voice was monotone. His eyes were wide, and he had dropped the fork he was previously holding, making eggs splatter on his shirt. Gilbert would have laughed at the sight if only he had been joking.</p><p>“I just long to… make a family of my own- I, yes, well of course I have you guys,” Gilbert glanced guiltily at Bash who was looking positively offended. “But I want my own children, a legacy, I don’t know why but there’s a voice inside me I just…”</p><p>“Gilbert, you’re barely twenty!” Bash stood so the bench behind him toppled to the floor. “You have your whole life before you, you don’t need to settle down!” Gilbert smiled awkwardly to his best friend. </p><p>“Well I know I don’t need to.” He smiled wistfully. “I want to.” Bash pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “I have asked God, and-”</p><p>“You asked GOD?!” Bash shouted, once again rigid as a pole. “Gilbert!” He scolded, “Don’t you know when you ask, he delivers?” Bash paced back and forth on the floor, only barely avoiding stumbling on the fallen bench. “Mercy on us, in a week’s time we’ll have virgins of plenty breaking down your door…” Gilbert blushed down to the roots of his hair.</p><p>“Well that’s a bit-” Bash ignored him.</p><p>“Mary! Honey! I need help, Gilbert asked GOD-” Gilbert didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as Bash stormed down the hallway. </p><p>Silent as a mouse, Gilbert stepped in his shoes, shrugged on his jacket and put on his hat and escaped. The stable was quiet except for his horse who whinnied happily when Gilbert entered. He filled up the haystack outside her box and fastened her saddle. Silently he walked back inside through the backdoor and grabbed his wallet. He snickered as he heard Mary scolding Bash in annoyed whispers. <br/>Just as Gilbert led his mare out of the stable, he caught a glimpse of Sebastian, bursting out the front door. Gilbert jumped up on the horse and kicked her side lightly. </p><p>“Gilbert! Get back here!” Gilbert only waved and before long he was out of sight.</p><p>The trip to Charlottetown was a long one, and it felt longer since the last time he had travelled. Usually Bash or Mary did the shopping, they took mercy on poor Gilbert who had never been much of a socialiser. He didn’t mind people, he just minded the gossip more after his father died. All of Avonlea wondered what had become of the orphan boy who took to sea after the death of his family. Gilbert was sure some of Charlottetown knew about it as well. </p><p>Gilbert had never really announced his return. When he came back it was because of Bash. Together they worked the farm and helped Mary with Delly. Gilbert lived a generally good life. It wasn’t his fault that he sometimes felt lonely. He didn’t really need a wife, he knew that. Gilbert had always felt complete on his own, but he longed for companionship. In the evenings he would watch Mary lull Delly to sleep while Bash held them both, an adoring smile priding his features. Gilbert loved them. They were his family, how could he not? But when Gilbert went to his cold bed, he felt alone in ways he had never imagined he would. </p><p>Gilbert hadn’t been lying when he told Bash he had asked God. He had always known there was a special plan for his life. That, he believed, was the way of the world. He had never doubted he would feel fulfilled, and after receiving such a gift as Bash and his family, Gilbert hadn’t dared ask for more from his heavenly father. He hadn’t dared… until recently. He knew that it was asking of much, but his father had always said that a man’s highest duty was to his wife. Gilbert longed to know what that was like. So, he asked. It was a simple little prayer, and if He said no… Gilbert would back down. He would tell him his greatest thanks, nod his head and live… forever lonely.</p><p>Gilbert woke from his dream about hair of fire when the train stopped abruptly. “Last stop!” the conductor shouted, “Georgetown!” Gilbert shot up and out of his seat. The conductor looked at him and smiled, </p><p>“You quite alright sir?” He asked, picking up the hat Gilbert had dropped. Gilbert shook his head frantically.</p><p>“Did you mean to say Charlottetown, sir?” Gilbert asked, accepting his hat with a nod. The conductor laughed a bit.</p><p>“No, I’m afraid I meant Georgetown.” He gestured out the window and Gilbert could see a flurry of unknown buildings; they were smaller than the ones in Charlottetown. “If you’re looking to board the next train to Charlottetown, I’m afraid it leaves the station no earlier than four o’clock.” Gilbert sighed at the enlightenment, but thanked the conductor, nonetheless. </p><p>The train rolled off the tracks behind him and Gilbert was left standing on an empty platform. </p><p>He bought a hammer in the span of his first ten minutes in Georgetown. The next half hour, he tried to relax in a cold bar-chair. It was early in the morning so the only person occupying the bar other than himself was the bartender. </p><p>Gilbert sighed at his stupidity as he thought of the next five hours he would have to spend in this god-forsaken town. Georgetown was known on PEI for its dark neighbourhoods and frequent crime, but to Gilbert it seemed like any other sleepy town in the early morning.</p><p>“Is there anything interesting to do in this town?” He asked the bartender, who stopped in his tracks. The older gentleman turned around and slung the towel over his left shoulder.</p><p>“I don’t approve…” He looked searchingly into Gilberts eyes, “But if you’re looking for company, the Lonely Gentleman is right down the street.” He pointed out the direction. Gilbert drank the rest of his watered-out beer and stood. </p><p>“It’s a club?” He asked, pulling his cap down over his head. The bartender nodded slowly. </p><p>“Of sorts.” Gilbert nodded in thanks and left the bar to meet the chilly wind outside. </p><p>The drizzle in the air soaked Gilbert to the bone in minutes. He picked up the pace when he saw the light shining from the club the bartender had mentioned. It didn’t seem like a fancy club, but perhaps it still contained some interesting discussions he could participate in. He often saw elder men in Charlottetown engaged in political discussions in several small and private bars. He had never really thought of joining them, but now it seemed more desirable than the cold bar chair. Politics or, well, the arguing part of politics had always interested him anyways. </p><p>The moment he entered Gilbert felt like something was wrong. He made an awful decision and looked around. Never in his life had Gilbert felt more ashamed of himself. The room he was standing in was dark, the few lights cast a golden glow over the whole place. In plush red chairs sat men of all ages and races. Girls swarmed about the dimly lit room, tending to the men’s needs in the bare minimum of clothing. Sometimes in less. </p><p>Gilbert turned around as if he had gazed into the gates of hell. He pressed his forehead to the wall, and pulled his hair roughly.</p><p>“God give me strength.” He muttered. </p><p>Someone tapped his shoulder and Gilbert turned around slowly. She was scantily dressed; he could see bruises forming on her left shoulder.</p><p>“Do you need any assistance, sir?” her voice was calm and quaint. Gilbert shivered at the pleading he saw in her eyes. He made sure to keep his body from touching hers.</p><p>“Are you alright, miss?” he asked, keeping his eyes on her eyes or above. Her hair was long and light. She wore a pink ribbon that dipped out on the left side of her head. “Do you need to see a doctor about the –” Gilbert gestured to her shoulder. The girl covered it up quickly. </p><p>“No, I’m quite alright, sir.” The young girl glanced away. Gilbert recognized tears on the tips of her eyelashes and decided to push her further.</p><p>“Are you sure, because I have some connections I could-.” She placed a hand on his chest and smiled sweetly.</p><p>“I am fine, thank you sir.”</p><p>The air around him was dark with smoke. Gilbert caught a whiff of alcohol and decided he had seen quite enough for one day.</p><p>“Do you want a private room, sir?” The girl asked, she had not moved from her spot. Gilbert shook his head and carefully plucked her hands off his shoulders. </p><p>“No, but thank you, miss…?” The shy girl tugged at a pearl bracelet on her right arm. Gilbert forced his eyes to stay on her shoulder.</p><p>“Gillis, sir.” He nodded and quickly shook her hand.</p><p>“Goodbye then, miss Gillis.” Gilbert turned around and walked out the door.</p><p>The rain outside seemed to welcome him with cold arms. Gilbert almost cried with relief. What kind of wretched place would harm a soul such as miss Gillis? She seemed sweet. Kind. Considerate. Why would they…? </p><p>Gilbert didn’t finish his thought. The hair rose on the back of his neck as a bloodcurdling scream tore through the dark alley. A shiver ran down his spine. Gilbert spun around to look at the tall brick building he had just left and swore he heard a voice whisper;</p><p>“It’s her.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Dark eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: Violence done against main character</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anne smiled as she entered the lounge. She felt the brush of clothing as her last client walked past her and let out a breath, she didn’t know she had been holding. </p><p>Her smile was convincing, compelling even, but not real. She had worked on it for years. It was part of her training in her younger years, but she had never officially mastered it. Her teacher always said she looked too tense. Anne rolled her shoulders and relaxed the muscles in her back. If she was tense, the next round would only hurt more. </p><p>The men in the lounge all looked tiered. Anne wondered if any of them had kids and a family, maybe a wife. She looked at the young man in the left corner. He was handsome, dark and brooding, much like how she always had imagined Mr. Darcy. He probably had a beautiful wife, Anne thought, and frowned. Unfaithful men were disgusting. That was perhaps the reason why Anne found all men in her life repelling. Ruby was approaching Mr. Darcy quickly and Anne let a small smile slip onto her face. At least his eyes were kind. Ruby needed someone kind.</p><p>Anne scanned the crowd before her. A few young men in a cluster by the bar, an elderly gentleman sipping a whiskey in the darkest corner. Anne imagined the latter was widowed, maybe longing for companionship after his wife had just passed away. Anne figured it would be much more romantic if he lived in solitude for the rest of his days, but, she reminded herself, men weren’t like that. </p><p>He looked her way and Anne smiled brightly. She straightened her back and tucked her handkerchief in her pocket before she headed towards him. He didn’t look that sad, perhaps she was wrong about his backstory. </p><p>Before Anne could reach the man, a strong hand stopped her. The hand was large and white from the cold weather. Drops draped his shoulders, they glittered in his light hair. She looked up and met dark blue eyes. His talk was smooth and slow, it compelled her to rest in false promises. His hands were gentle when he led her upstairs and cold when he slipped a few coins in the hand of her boss. But his eyes never wavered from their dark waters. They were deep pools and stormy oceans, waves that could drown her if she let them. <br/>It should have tipped her off. <br/>But it didn’t.</p><p>She hit the wall like a rock and felt the boards rasp against her cheek. Anne snapped her mouth shut and swallowed spit with a cold taste of metal. Ashamed and afraid because of the scream she had not managed to stop, Anne clung to the wall as her only support.</p><p>The shadow trapping her felt larger now than when he had entered. It seemed to her like a lid had been shut over her head.</p><p>“I told you to keep your stupid mouth shut!” The man, she thought his name was Ben or Bill, grabbed the front of her shirt and picked her up. She was a feather in the hands of a harsh storm. <br/>She gasped for air when he pushed her back down. Her body felt heavy, her hands were stiff with fear. </p><p>“Sorry-,” she sobbed, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I didn’t mean to.” The man pushed a strand of hair off his sweaty forehead and rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Don’t worry, dog.” Her stomach stung with a thousand needles when he kicked her. “You’ll learn.” Her hands shot out to stop him, but she was to slow to weaken the blow to her head. The room blackened around her. Anne blinked slowly to get it back into focus.</p><p>“Please…” Her whisper seemed far away, like a shout from a distant shore over stormy water. She coughed once, a sensation like sandpaper on her skin burned in her throat. Anne closed her eyes and sobbed. For the first time in her life Anne was sure of something, she would never leave this place alive.</p><p>She didn’t register when the door on the other side of the room opened with a bang. The man over her barely had the time to mutter; “What the hell?” before he was thrown to the floor. Anne crept further into herself, covering her head protectively with her hands. She saw through the gap of her fingers, dark boots before her. But they were turned away from her. </p><p>Shouting overtook her senses. The loud voices echoed in her room and in her head until she couldn’t take the pain anymore. When the world faded out of view with a muffled sort of peace, Anne was relieved.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Saviour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Words: 1.0 K</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gilbert had barely reached the stairs when someone tried to stop him. He didn’t hesitate to elbow the burly man across the face. A good right hook and he was down for the count. More people now approached him, but he was faster than them. With the heavy smell of sweat burning in his nostrils, Gilbert raced up the stairs, his boots sounding like thunder through the calm lounge.</p><p>The stairs led him to a hallway. Gilbert slung open every door he could reach. Most rooms were occupied, but the second he saw the women he knew that none of them were her. He didn’t know how he knew, neither did he have the time to think about it. </p><p>The last door was a jackpot. He heard another softer cry before he could open the door. The golden handle was stuck, Gilbert felt panic rise inside him and delivered a swift kick to the piece of wood. The door flew open and the hinges made a snapping sound as they strained to keep the door in place.</p><p>The sight that met Gilbert inside the room forced him to stop for a split second. A young woman was lying on the floor. She covered her face with her hands and pushed her knees up to her chest as a man kicked her. Gilbert saw her involuntary whimper, her body shaking before his very eyes and he pushed the man away with all the force in his body. The impact wasn’t nearly hard enough. The man looked up and Gilbert recognized him.</p><p>“Billy,” Gilbert muttered, frowning.</p><p>“What the hell, Gil?” Billy Andrews stood up quickly. “Don’t you see I’m busy?” Gilbert sneered at the man he had known his whole life.</p><p>“Busy hurting women?” Gilbert shouted. He grabbed his shirt and slammed him back into the wall. “What is wrong with you?!” In that small moment of standing over the man who had just kicked a woman… the woman, Gilbert came to the startling realization that he wanted to kill him. Not just hurt him but bury him six feet under so that he was sure he would never hurt her again.</p><p>Huffing, Gilbert shook his head and let go. “Get out.” The statement was slung back over his shoulder as he turned away from the man he had once known.</p><p>“No way,” he pushed Gilbert roughly and gestured to the girl on the ground. “I paid for that dog. I own her.”</p><p>Anger boiled deep within Gilberts system. Fires of fury and hatred, smouldering in his dark eyes. He could almost feel the gas swelling inside him, waiting to be lit with a single spark.</p><p>“Say that again,” he growled, he didn’t recognize his voice. Billy scoffed and lifted his eyebrows.</p><p>“What are you talking about, bud?” Billy asked, seemingly confused by the whole situation. “I’m not lying,” he stated, “I paid for her.”</p><p>The spark lit him up. Gilbert turned around and swung his right fist. It hit Billy with a crack on the side of his nose. Gilbert felt the hit stinging in his knuckles, but it didn’t matter now.</p><p>“You payed-“ he hit him harder- “for her?” Billy gasped for air beneath him, but Gilbert didn’t care. He grabbed his shirt and tossed him on the ground. </p><p>“GET OUT!” he roared and didn’t breathe until Billy scrambled out of the room.</p><p>For a few seconds Gilbert stood silently in the middle of the room. Then he turned around and realized that the girl was no longer shaking. He crouched down beside her and took of his coat to cover her up. He checked her pulse and breathing but concluded that she had only fainted.</p><p>Carefully he picked her up and cradling her in his arms, he carried her to the bed. The sheets were thin, and obviously not made for warmth, but he packed them around her either way. After a split second of hesitation, he bent down and kissed her forehead lightly. It was her; he knew she was the one. He didn’t know why God had chosen her for him, they seemed completely different, but he would love her. He would take care of her. He would… do anything to keep her safe. </p><p>It wasn’t until now that he had the chance to really look at her. She had beautiful red hair, it fell like a waterfall of fire down her shoulders and over his coat. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he wished she would open them, he had a feeling they would be bright. He did however see the dark circles under her eyes. Blue, almost on the verge of black. He wasn’t sure if they were from poor sleeping or hits. It could be both. Her body was frail. He didn’t dare look, he had covered her up for a reason, but he had felt her bones when he had carried her. Didn’t she get enough food? He could give her food. Mary would feed her up quick enough.</p><p>He didn’t see the door opening, but he heard it when it shut. A rather large man was standing before him. He didn’t look thin; his skin was hanging off him in flaps and his hair was dirty. The man stared at him.</p><p>“What?” Gilbert asked harshly. He didn’t have time for games.</p><p>“You cost me a customer,” the man said, his voice gruff. Gilberts frown deepened and he stood from the bed.</p><p>“He hurt her.” The man didn’t react. </p><p>“He does what he wants when he can pay.” For a second Gilbert had to stop himself from hitting two men in less than an hour.</p><p>“You wouldn’t be left with much if he killed her,” he argued, staying by the side of the fire headed girl.</p><p>“He would have paid his collateral.” Gilbert drew a deep breath through his nose. The anger boiled, but he forced the temperature down.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Gilbert put a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder, “I’ll pay for his hour and the next.” The man scowled, sceptical, but nodded and left out the half-broken door. </p><p>Gilbert turned back around and was surprised to see the young woman sitting upright on the bed. She looked him over quickly and smiled a frail smile.</p><p>“I’m a little sore, so if you don’t mind, I would like to get this over with as quickly as possible.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Naiad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Words: 930</p><p>A/N: A small chapter :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m a little sore, so if you don’t mind, I would like to get this over with as quickly as possible.” </p><p>Gilbert frowned slightly at her words and took a few steps towards her bed. The woman patted the duvet beside her, and he slowly sat down. The room suddenly felt very hot as his coat slid off her shoulders slowly. </p><p>“I-” Gilbert cleared his throat- “My name is Gilbert Blythe.” The woman nodded absentmindedly and put a delicate hand on his shoulder. </p><p>“Do you want me to moan it?” He glanced to the hand and back at her with wide eyes. Her smile was alluring, but her eyes stopped him. They were dull, as if she was gazing up at him from deep waters. Gilbert could imagine her as a naiad, her red hair disguised as a flower and her porcelain skin turned green in a shimmering pond. She was draping her hands around his neck, pulling him back down to the depths from which she had come.</p><p>With a start he jumped away from her and shook his head to get rid of the siren song. The woman followed him, but he held her at a distance. “I- I didn’t come here for that.” She shrunk away slightly. <br/>“Oh.” She picked at a nail- “I guess you could start whenever you’d like then.” Gilbert glanced at her, confused. She gave a twitching smile. </p><p>“I assume you’re here to get your anger out?” He shook his head frantically, but she didn’t see. “I should have guessed when you didn’t choose Ruby. She is sweet, perfect for a guy like you and usually they just- well, I’m not desirable in that way-” she was rambling, and Gilbert couldn’t think of a way to stop her from these self-destructing thoughts except;</p><p>“I want to marry you.”</p><p>“What?” She stopped in the middle of her speech; eyes wide as plates. Gilbert cringed. Not the way he had imagined proposing, but it would have to work.<br/>“That’s not what I meant-“ he stopped, frowned and shook his head- “Well I do mean it, but that’s not originally why I’m here,” he rambled, and shot a small smile her way. “I was looking for a hammer, <br/>and I heard you shout and there was a voice inside me…” She lifted her eyebrows at that- “I think God told me to marry you.” </p><p>The woman seemed completely stunned, she muttered a few words he couldn’t understand. She looked at him, at herself and up, seemingly past the roof. Gilbert felt colour slowly make its way up his cheeks. This was ridiculous, had he really just asked a woman if she wanted to marry him? A woman he had never seen before no less.</p><p>“Do- do you even know my name?” Her formerly stunned expression, had now turned into a frown. </p><p>“No, but” -she stopped him with a slender finger to his mouth- </p><p>“Do you know where I’m from, have you ever seen me before?”</p><p>“Well, I” he stuttered, but shut up quickly at her criticizing gaze. He felt like a rabbit under the watchful stare of a fox. </p><p>“You’re clearly insane. Go home, Mr. Blythe.”</p><p>“No, miss, please,” his hand touched her shoulder, and the woman shuttered, “I beg you, please reconsider.” She dismissed him with a wave. “Please,” he begged again, “The Lord told me it was you.”</p><p>“I don’t believe in God.” She sat back on the bed and looked every bit as royal as a queen. But he could glimpse her tears. “If he truly is as good as they say, he would have saved me a long time ago.” </p><p>“Maybe this is the rescue.” He was kneeling before her now, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me be your knight in shining armour?” </p><p>They watched each other, then she blinked a few times, as if waking from a dream. She pushed his shoulder forcefully.</p><p>“Go home Blythe!” She wiped at her dry cheeks, maybe expecting something to be there that she had not shed in years. </p><p>He pleaded several times, but when she finally pushed him to her door, she felt pity for him. This young man didn’t know what he was doing. He owned a farm, he said. He could take care of her, he said. But he wouldn’t want to. A few days after he took her home, he would send her back. He would see her for what she was, a whore. There was only one way to get him to leave. Compromise. </p><p>“Gilbert.” She stopped him by using his first name. “Go home, think about what you’re asking me. Talk to friends and family. Stay there for a week. Then,” she looked him in the eyes, placing a hand carefully on his chest, “and only then, will I be your wife.” The sweet nectar of victory shined in his eyes. She forced herself not to show emotion.</p><p>“Your name, can I know it before I leave?” She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying not to think that this would be the last time she saw him. </p><p>“Anne. Anne Shirley.” His smile was blinding, crippling, and then he left.</p><p>Anne closed the door behind him as a sob shook her body. She lent back against the door and put her shaking hand to her mouth. It was for the best. He would go home and see reason. He would find a beautiful wife; he would have her children. Soon, the memory of Anne Shirley would be lost forever. </p><p>And Gilbert Blythe would be all the better for it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! Comments are much appreciated, so is constructive criticism. Love you all, have a nice day darlings &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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